


Only Gods and Tigers

by piginapoketuesday



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: In-character, M/M, Murder Husbands, Post-Canon, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Tumblr Prompt, Wine, Wine Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 04:03:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5853355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piginapoketuesday/pseuds/piginapoketuesday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal decides to spend a sunset pouring wine over Will and getting drunk on him. Sensual post-s3 murder husband time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only Gods and Tigers

Will Graham lay sprawled over a chaise lounge in the drawing room, the dimmed light of a half-sunken sun painting him in streaks of orange. The light skimmed his chest through its slow rise and fall, and it settled warmly over his bare neck. His eyes, lidded in a sleepy, late-afternoon haze, closed at the touch of Hannibal's lips on his scarred cheek.

"Only gods rest this way, sun-kissed and seraphic," Hannibal said. "Gods and tigers."

Will was comfortable in that moment, hovering in the gentleness. He kept his eyes closed but tipped his face in the direction of Hannibal's voice. "Only tigers are we," he mumbled.

Hannibal was grateful Will had asked him to dress more casually today. Without a jacket, waistcoat, or tie, he'd left a few buttons open at the collar of his cream shirt. It gave him a subtle, lusty confidence in the sunset glow with his lover. Tigers indeed. "You look divinely handsome tonight, Will. Spilled like wine in the window. One sip and a fool might find himself drunk and spilling alongside you."

Will raised his chin, knowing Hannibal would follow the light moving over the curve of his throat. "Are you a fool, Dr. Lecter?"

Glancing at the bottle of red and the shining glasses on the table beside him, Hannibal had a thought. "I'm not one to deny myself fine wine."

Will's mouth turned up at one edge.

Hannibal stood and poured himself a glass of wine. It was a silken red, deep and fragrant. He took the glass and held the edge before Will's mouth. "Taste," he said, barely loud enough to be heard over their heartbeats.

Will parted his lips and allowed the glass to be tipped forward. Eyes still closed, he felt the bitter sweetness rush over his tongue. Droplets filled the creases of his lips, but he did not lick them away.

"Savor," Hannibal said, pulling the glass back. He watched his lover absorb the flavor of the wine, so languid, his wrists turned out and knuckles resting against the chaise. After a moment, he bent to kiss the sunlight vein crossing Will's neck. "Swallow."

The wine left a trail of heady warmth from his tongue to his chest as it went down, and Will could feel the press of Hannibal's mouth at his flexing throat.

Their lips met, and the taste of wine over Will's scent left Hannibal blushed beneath his shirt. He pressed both hands into the cushion behind Will's head and leaned into him, consuming him, a shadow stealing light and breath from beneath.

Will opened his eyes when Hannibal pulled away, one stray lock of hair clinging to the sweat gathering on his forehead. He couldn't look away from the carnal gaze of Hannibal Lecter. If this was how it felt to be devoured, he would beg for teeth.

Hannibal was caught, the tug of Will's breath and vibrant stare keeping him bound in place. Tigers indeed. Forcing himself to back away, Hannibal turned toward the wine again. "Will," he said, tender and raw in his arousal, "The chaise lays flat with a press of a lever. Would you?"

Flushed, Will blinked his trance away and groped at the edge of the lounge. When he found the protruding lever, he pulled up, and the back of the chair lowered itself until horizontal, taking Will with it. He lay back against the cushion and faced the window, where he found the sky inflamed and darkening.

Hannibal took up the glass again and went to kneel in front of the sunset, his face always the first to accept shadow. He caught Will's eyes again. "May I?" he asked, skimming his thumb over the base of Will's neck.

A shiver of lust raised goosebumps over his entire body as Will relaxed his head and tilted his chin. "Yes."

The pour was uncontrolled, leaving thin streaks down the glass as the hollow above Will's collarbone filled with wine. Hannibal set it aside, lest his fingers become sticky, and pressed his mouth to the quivering pool at Will's throat.

A swipe of eager tongue accompanied the light suction, and Will moaned as he was licked clean.

Hannibal swallowed, finding the taste transformed gorgeously by Will's skin. "I would have you, Will, here, if you would have me."

The chaste quality of his words made Will feel paradoxically more vulnerable than before. "You may have me anywhere, Doctor."

Smiling, Hannibal tipped the glass into Will's hollow once more. When he sipped, he left his lips wet and trailed them softly up Will's throat, barely touching, just enough to tease.

Will took a heavy breath and turned his head toward Hannibal. "Open your shirt."

Hannibal obliged, unbuttoning from the top down. He could see his lover mesmerized by his fingers and chest, and he slowed his pace, never wanting those eyes to leave his body.

Will reached out to run his hand down Hannibal's chest, letting his fingers settle in the dark hair and smooth over each of his scars. An orange halo from the fast-sinking sun framed Hannibal's body. "Only tigers are we," Will said again.

Inspired, Hannibal pulled roughly at the collar edges of Will's white shirt, popping buttons and exposing his entire torso in seconds. His hands began to explore as Will's had, rubbing over hardened nipples and a taut stomach. Without thinking, he went to grab the bottle of wine from the table, and he poured it generously over Will's naked chest.

Will flinched at the cold splashes that spilled down his ribcage and stained his shirt. He could only look up into fierce, lascivious eyes as Hannibal straddled him—hands nudging his legs apart—and fell to licking the wine from his body.

Hannibal felt dizzy as he suckled and tongued the sweetness dripping over Will's warm skin. One hand traced the bullet wound scars on the younger man's shoulders and found itself tangled in his curls, while the other held the half-empty bottle ready for another pour.

The sensation was overwhelming for Will. Hannibal loomed heavy and panting over him, tasting him in every sense, powerful and desperate. All at once, his mouth and tongue and fingers were everywhere. Will grasped tenderly at Hannibal's hair and back, trying to maintain composure but slipping helplessly into his own pleasure. He felt the wine filling the concave of his belly, then the intimate draw of lips there that left him groaning and twinging below the belt.

Hannibal unzipped Will's trousers, leaning close enough to breathe hotly over his straining length. He kissed the swell of Will's boxers, leaving subtle red stains of wetness that made the younger man ache.

"Hannibal," Will said, unable to keep his eyes open long enough to watch.

The orange had drained from the sky, but it seemed to linger in the dark room over the bodies of the two men. Gods. Tigers.

Will tipped his head back at the feel of fabric being pulled aside and wine spilling over his hip and down his thigh. "Hannibal," he said, "Taste."


End file.
